


A Parting Gift

by silvertrails



Series: Warrior and Minstrel [20]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 18:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11857647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Near the End of Time, Maglor tells a stranger about his people.





	A Parting Gift

**A Parting Gift  
** By CC  
July, 2008 

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. This story is set in the future, but it came to my head after reading Kei’s wonderful story, Star’s End. 

Thank you to Keiliss for her wonderful beta!

* * *

The stranger was beautiful, and Aaron looked at him intently, wondering why he had never realized that men could be as beautiful as women. It was not that the traveler’s features were feminine, not at all. It was an eerie masculine beauty, with high cheekbones and grey eyes that seemed to look at everything as if nothing was new anymore. Yet the traveler didn’t seem to feel sad or lonely. Aaron had seen him come to the campus cafe every day for two weeks and buy a caramel macchiato, drinking it slowly as he read a book. It was always the same book, and Aaron was certain that the stranger had read it more than once. 

He suddenly felt like a stalker. 

It might be better to stop admiring the stranger from afar and talk to him. With a determined nod, Aaron grabbed his latte and the cinnamon swirl he had bought without realizing it. He approached the beautiful stranger, glad that the café was almost empty. It would be packed with students as soon as the late morning classes ended. 

“May I sit?” Aaron asked. There was a nice stuffed seat beside the stranger, but Aaron didn’t want to invade his space. He had seen it happen once, when a too enthusiastic art student had asked the stranger permission to paint his portrait. The request had been politely denied, but the dangerous glint in the stranger’s eye had made everyone stay clear of him from then on. 

“You may,” the stranger said, and Aaron wondered about his accent, or lack of it. For a moment Aaron felt shy and wondered if he should leave. 

“Please take a seat,” the traveler spoke again. “I have seen you observing me since the first day I came here to read.” He paused and almost smiled. “And I like cinnamon swirls.”

“I brought it for you, I think,” Aaron said, sitting down. “I noticed you eating one a few days ago. Sorry, you might think me a stalker. I assure you that I don’t mean to...”

“I would enjoy talking to you,” the stranger said. “Those books you carry, ancient books. Not many people read them these days. You seem to be a student here. Am I correct? Is it your love for history that drives you to me? Or must I assume that you were trying to seduce me?”

Aaron blushed, but strangely enough he didn’t feel offended by the stranger’s directness. He smiled and pushed the swirl in the stranger’s direction.

“If I were trying to seduce you, what would you do?” he asked.

The stranger smiled for the first time. “I would hope that there is some intelligent conversation first. And I would hope that you desisted. I only share physical love with those I know well and care for, and you and I are still strangers. I would like to talk, and nothing else.”

Aaron cocked his head to the side, wondering if he should simply leave the strange man to his musings and dreams, but something made him stay. He watched the man drink his machiatto, slowly, eyes lost in some place where Aaron could not follow him.

“Who are you?” he whispered. 

“I was a warrior once,” the man said. “A mighty one by those days’ standards, but mightier was my brother... I was a pale shadow when compared to him; he was the flame that led me through the path of war. You see, my spirit was not on fire like his, nor like my father’s. I did not burn like them. I was like water flowing over the hills, and my mighty waves only rose when needed to quell the fire of the enemy.”

“I didn’t know you were a poet,” Aaron said after a moment. He still wanted to seduce the dark-haired man, but he no longer wanted a casual encounter but something that lasted more... Aaron shook himself, confused at the turn his thoughts were taking. He had never even considered loving a man before. 

The stranger was looking at him with knowing eyes, but there was no scorn in them, or rejection, just a quiet acceptance of the effect he was having on Aaron.

“I was a singer,” the stranger said, “and what you would call a composer. I made songs out of everyday life, and I made songs of war and death.”

“You are a most interesting man,” Aaron said. The traveler looked at him blankly for a moment and then nodded slowly, as if he agreed, though there was no vanity in his agreement. Aaron wanted to shake him lightly and bring him out of his dreams, but maybe doing so would break the spell. 

“Will you sing for me, then?” he ventured.

The stranger smiled softly. “Do you want me to sing for you?” 

“I would very much like you to do so,” Aaron said, “but you have not told me your name yet.”

“My name is of no importance,” the dark-haired man said. “I have had many names, and the one I give when needed is not the real one. Call me Edlenn, if you wish. That is what I am.”

“Edlenn,” Aaron repeated. “It sounds like a word from a lost language.”

“It was the language of my people,” the other man said. 

“You speak of your people as if they were no more...”

The stranger – Edlenn - nodded and turned his attention to the cinnamon swirl. Aaron watched him, wondering at his sanity, unable to leave him alone. If the man was mad, it was a madness that seemed to keep him together.

“My people are all gone,” Edlenn said quietly. “I stayed behind, to deal with my mistakes and watch the song of men unfold. Those books you read are nothing but the first attempts of men to record their history. My people were old to the world already when those tales were told.”

“And why did your people leave you behind?” Aaron asked, suddenly angry at the thought of this beautiful man all alone with no family. The world had changed, and many said it would soon come to an end. Families were different now, but as important as always. Men could not be, and didn’t like to be, alone.

“It was my decision,” Edlenn said. “I could go back, maybe. There is a way back, if only I gather the courage to try it, but the fire is gone, you see? I am nothing without that fire. I exist, and wait for the fire to return.”

“Did you love your brother so?” Aaron asked, trying not to sound judgmental. Maybe Edlenn had been left behind because he loved his brother in a different way? 

The beautiful stranger smiled wistfully, knowingly. “Not that way, no. My brother loved one, close kin to us. Though I can see the beauty in males, I loved an elleth once, a female of my kind, but that commitment is old and no longer holds any meaning to me. I loved her, but after all this time I can only hope that she found someone else. My people used to marry for life, but I left her side... I have dreamed of her, and she was happy. Maybe she has found love again.”

“A marriage for life is not unheard of in these times,” Aaron said, “though few people actually marry. Love seldom lasts for long enough.”

“Do you really think so...?” 

“Aaron, my name is Aaron.”

“Do you really think love cannot last for long enough, Aaron?” Edlenn asked. “Even among your people there were those who stayed together until death ripped them apart. Are children the only reason to stay together, then? I never had children... Not my own, at least...”

Something changed in Edlenn’s expression and his eyes became unfocused as if he were talking to someone else. It didn’t last long, though, and when he looked at Aaron again, he was smiling beautifully. “I must go now, Aaron, but come to the gardens outside the campus before the eighteenth hour. There is a fountain there, and a few wooden benches. Do not look for me, or talk to anyone. Just sit there and listen. I am leaving tonight, and I want to give you a parting gift.”

Aaron stared at Edlenn, speechless. He wanted to ask the dark-haired man to stay, but what right did he have to stop him? It seemed to Aaron that there was a reason for the beautiful smile, and that this reason was linked to Edlenn’s departure. 

“You can keep this book,” Edlenn said. “There are tales and songs of my people, who would be deemed as fantasy nowadays. You are the first one I have told about this, and I trust you to keep this to yourself. I am of the Firstborn, and our time on Earth has been over for millennia.”

Aaron accepted the book, and didn’t open it until Edlenn had left the café. It was a handwritten book, but the calligraphy was elegant and easy to read. There were songs and tales, but one of them caught Aaron’s eyes. Noldolante, a song of pain and sorrow... Was this Edlenn’s people’s story? Aaron stayed in the café the rest of the afternoon, reading and drinking in the lives and deeds of these long forgotten people. 

He was so absorbed in the book that he almost missed the appointment in the garden. He packed his books in his bag, and holding Edlenn’s in his hands, he rushed to the garden. There were a few students there, talking quietly, reading and debating about the future, if there was to be one for Earth. Aaron, still out of breath, sat near the fountain and closed his eyes. That was when he heard the song. 

It was not the Noldolante, as Aaron had hoped. It was a joyous song, of love and hope. It was the last story he had read, but told differently. It was the tale of Edlenn’s people rising above their mistakes and returning home. It was a hymn of glory. Aaron recognized Edlenn’s voice, but as the song neared the end, a new voice joined the first, and they sang until the night was over. As the stars faded in the pale sky, Aaron saw two men walking away from him. One of them was Edlenn, his long dark hair loose, his eyes alight with hope. The other was taller, and his hair was braided with pearls. Who was this? Where were they going? Aaron woke all of a sudden, and wondered if it had been a dream. He smiled. It didn’t really matter, as long as Edlenn found his peace.


End file.
